


Talking of Tevinter

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian manages to convince the Inquisition to fix up an old bath house in Skyhold... for morale, of course.</p><p>He gets to test it first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking of Tevinter

**Author's Note:**

> An altered RP between myself and my married person. :) I was Dorian and digtalokii was Cole.

Dorian’s lip lifted in a daring smile as he took in the sight before him. He’d seen the bath house during one of his first trips around Skyhold, back when everything had been covered in dust and broken. It had been a personal quest of his to see the location restored to glory. He’d weaseled his request into other business by insisting it would boost morale; insisting it would make a difference in the troops. He’d been responsible for more than his share of actual hands-on work and construction, but he couldn’t say he was completely dissatisfied by that.

It almost looked like home.

The air was thick with steam over the almost sky-blue water. Tall, pale stone columns were very lightly decorated with candles, blue and yellow flames as was his preference. They bathed the area in a soft, twilight glow. The fortified walls of Skyhold protected the area but somehow the sparse plants and the vast open starry sky above made it look like a haven away from the Inquisition.

Dorian was barefoot, a rare sight, clad only in heavily belted breeches and a highly decorated towel over his shoulder. He wore two golden chains around his neck—one he always wore under his robes and another he’d simply forgotten he was wearing—and his hands were littered with jeweled rings. His dark tanned skin looked all the darker against the pale stone at his feet. He smiled as he stepped onto tile he expected to be cold, only to find it warmed by the heat of the pool.

"This… is better than I’d imagined, truthfully." He sighed, voice a notch or two calmer than usual. His accent was soft, his tone quiet, hard to compare to his usual bravada. He glanced over his shoulder where he knew his companion waited, having followed happily when Dorian declared he ‘had a surprise’. He smiled wider, hair just starting to unravel from it’s place in the humidity.

"What do you think, Cole? Mmm?"

Cole looked around the stone tiled room with his usual expression of unreadable quiet wonder at the sight before him. ‘Not a room though.’ He thought to himself, ‘can’t be a room with no ceiling can it?’ He turned his head upward to gaze at the canopy of stars. He wondered if they had forgotten to add a roof, or fix it, like the hole in Cullen’s ceiling.

He wore no hat, as instructed by Dorian. He didn’t really mind anymore, being without it. It was a good way to hide when many people were looking at him and he could not disappear (it was much harder to do when people were looking), but it was only Dorian with him, and he did not wish to hide from him. Like Dorian, he was also barefoot, as he had been told to leave his shoes in the previous hallway. He wiggled his long toes against the stone of the floor, expecting it to be cold, like outside stone, but it was warm, like the stones around a fireplace.

Stringy blond hair hung over his eyes, though he made no move to shift it, and he played with the hem of a simple tunic. It was not HIS clothing, but a gift from Josephine. Well, he supposed it WAS his now, but it didn’t FEEL like his. It was loose and sleeveless and a color blue that matched the sky in the middle of the day, He liked the color, but was still getting used to the way it fit. He also wore breeches that only came to just below his knees. It left his skinny legs exposed. He rubbed one ankle with the bottom of his other foot.

"It’s warm, like in the kitchen when they make hot soup…only it smells like… flowers and candle wax." he observed aloud as he often did. He found that it was not enough to say he liked something most times, or that he couldn’t find the right words. When that happened, he would describe what he saw, what he felt, so show the other person how wonderful he thought something was.

"The stones are warm…it….seems like they should be cold." he turned his head finally from looking around the room to spare a sidelong glance at Dorian. "It feels like home, like Tevinter. All the good parts, light and stone and steam… Feels warm like the stone inside, like the candle fire." A tiny smile parted Cole’s lips though he was clearly talking about Dorian’s feelings not his own.

Dorian’s expression was soft, curious and sad at the same time. Talking about Tevinter with Cole was like talking to the part of himself that still believed his homeland could be saved. He didn’t have to worry about offending anyone or trying to back-track when he said something no one understood. With Cole he could speak his mind as it came to him and then work through the problems in his words later. He was proud; he was Tevinter, and like his home he could only learn if permitted to make mistakes first.

"The backdrop needs a little work," Dorian sighed, looking for anything to complain about, "certainly too mountainous for Tevinter." He reached down with ring laden hands and began untying his breeches. Leather groaned against itself and numerous belt buckles sang against one another. The breeches were mostly for fashion, not function. He loved the impractical nature of the garment. It didn’t have to make sense when it looked so good! He wasn’t fighting besides. He knew the pants drew attention to his ass and he loved it. They rested low on his hips and he enjoyed that too.

He carefully stepped out of the pants, folding them noisily and setting them aside, dropping the towel with them. He wore very small small clothes, intended only to cover what was politely necessary and even then that was a stretch. Too much movement and nothing would be covered at all. A thin line of fabric courted his hips and became intimately familiar with the cleft of his buttocks. Down his stomach a line of dark hair he usually groomed away was looking a touch wild, leading out from under the cloth or leading into it… either way he didn’t seem to much mind.

The light of the candles played jokes with the large tattoo on his back. Shadows seemed to make the snake head turn, take in the area surrounding and stoke the flames from which it emerged. Gold, green, black and red against his skin and vibrant against the too blue water. The mage carefully stepped in, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. The temperature made his toes burn, like icy fire. It was perfect.

Cole had been taken by the rest of the room and while Dorian was undressing, he had begun to walk around and explore. He was hearing Dorian’s words and had figured out what Dorian wanted to do here, but he was distracted by the candles and marble and chipping mosaics on the walls. He wandered, walking slowly to really feel the stone under each foot. It was smooth and there were lines laid out in patterns slicing through the stones like daggers, straight and meticulous. It certainly was not like the stone on the outside walls of Skyhold.

He followed the pictures along one wall, trying to make them out, but there were many stones missing and it was hard to see. He was not really sure if he could understand the story, even if he could see all the pictures. He laid long fingers against the crumbling images. He felt them hum, like humming a tune, but there were no words. The voices were far away.

He turned away from the wall.

"There is a strange song, the pictures try to tell a story, but the words have all been lost…" his voice trailed off as his gaze found the back of Dorian as he stepped lightly into the water. He found himself staring now not at ancient pictures, but the curves and slopes of Dorian’s figure. The way the light shone against his back made him look like a statue. The image on his back that he was both proud and ashamed of seemed to take on a life of it’s own and Cole could have almost said that it was moving. The flickering lights and Dorian’s rolling shoulder blades made it dance slowly.

He found himself rather captivated by the way Dorian stepped into the water and watched it ripple and his calf muscles tense and relax as his toes hit the water. Often in the Spire, he watched people, stared for hours as they did the simplest things. It was calming, just to watch. He was only really just starting to get used to people being able to see him all the time and many times he simply forgot he was no longer invisible and fell into staring once again. Josephine had told him it was impolite. He had said he was sorry and she smiled a sweet sad smile.

Dorian opened his eyes slowly as he stopped, standing with the water at his knees. His long, dark eyelashes left rigid shadows against his cheeks. He glanced over his shoulder, hearing Cole’s bare feet along the stone. The boy seemed to vanish behind a column as Dorian’s eyes laid on him. The mage turned to follow the sound of timid foot steps, a soft voice. Everything Cole said sounded like poetry and, though it might have been selfish, Dorian found more often than not he tuned out the words and simply let himself swallow the song and poetry in Cole’s voice.

"I’m sure it’s some Elvhen tale of misery and long gone gods." He waved dismissively. Titling his head he smiled at the way Cole looked at him. It was as innocent a sexual desire could be, and it made Dorian bashful. Dorian! Bashful!

"Don’t just gawk, amatus, I brought you here to enjoy the bath with me." Dorian gave a lopsided smirk. He lifted a hand and indicated his pile of breeches. "Take off that ghastly Antivan tunic and get in." He joked, knowing Cole was slowly grasping the concepts of such humor. He was actually quite partial to that color of blue on Cole, it made his eyes pop and gave him a sort of full and lively look. Though he would not be caught dead in admitting any bit of Antivan fashion was admirable or worth a second glance.

He turned back to the water and continued down the stairs until he was soaked to the waist. He let his fingers dance and glide over the surface, wiggling over the ripples his breathing caused. It was so still, so lovely and inviting. Dorian moved his hands in front of himself and cupped them at the water. He pushed his palms together to split the pool and dove in from a standing position. He kicked his legs up and out of the water, pushing himself down until he drew long, dexterous fingers over the smooth stone at the bottom of the pool.

He surfaced easily mid-way into the bath, permitting a self indulgent gasp of air. He flung his head backwards and reached up to draw his fingers down over his face, then up to clear water from his eyes. His rings moved and clanked together like wind chimes. Still dripping he turned to ensure Cole was following his instructions, nevermind water that was still blue dripping from his chin and nose, clinging to his eyelashes and his now fully out-of-place hair. His moustache began to droop, he could see a line of hair falling into his eyes.

In Tevinter he would not have dared to permit himself seen in such a way. He used magic—like most of the men present—to keep his appearance exactly how he wanted. But here, in front of Cole, Dorian did not hide. It was… frightening and thrilling all at once.

Cole’s mouth fell a little farther open as he slowly snapped out of the reverie he had fallen into watching Dorian gracefully enter the large pool. He blinked and felt a little embarrassed that Dorian had caught him staring, cheeks heating up a little bit, but unable to help himself. He made his way back over to the side of the pool with stares that looked almost carved right out of the stone floor.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, "I know i shouldn’t stare, but sometimes I forget people can see me…" he said softly under his breath. He did not seem sad, though really, just sheepish. He bent down to untie the small tie that kept his breeches secure just below his knees, smiling through the curtain of hair. He always quirked a smile when Dorian called him Amatus. It made his heart flutter and his insides flip a little, like spinning around in circles too fast.

He fumbled with the belt at his waist for a moment before finally pulling it loose and laying it beside Dorian’s small pile of clothes. While fighting, while his daggers were pressed firmly into his palms, Cole was quick and nimble and dextrous. But then he didn’t have to think. He let the wind wooshing by him drown out the loud thoughts, his own and the thoughts of others. When he thought too much about doing just simple things, they became frustrating.

He slipped his breeches down over boney hips and let them drop around his ankles. He wore small clothes that looked old and worn, but relatively clean and covered much more than Dorian’s chosen garment, the bottom edges stopping just above where his thighs began. He had refused all attempted to replace them. They fit right and he wouldn’t give them up, though, at Josephine’s insistence, he did permit them to be laundered often.

He had a little trouble folding his long, gangly arms into the holes of his tunic and pulling it up and over his head. Once he was free of it, he dropped it atop his pants. Approaching the edge of the water, he paused for a moment before slowly stepping in and standing ankle-deep on the first step. It was warmer than he’d expected and he let the warmth travel up his body. It felt good.

Cole looked much more like a young man, just filling out his frame now than a starvation victim, though he was still skinnier than perhaps was healthy. The kitchen staff was doing their very best to change that at every opportunity. He would be filling out faster if he stopped giving half the food away to starving strays of various types. His skin had lost much of it’s sickly pallor, though compared to Dorian, he still looked like he had never seen the sun a day in his life.

He took one more step in to almost his knee, unsure of what to do with his arms, he kept them wrapped around each other straight down in front of him.

"I…have never been swimming. I don’t know how…" he said even as he walked into the warm water deeper. He trusted Dorian. It the other man thought it was safe, he would get in despite his misgivings.

Dorian tilted his head to one side, feeling his hair flop lifelessly in that direction. His eyes sparkled, lips curved up and eyebrows raised as Cole stripped and joined him. The Tevinter was enjoying seeing Cole ‘come to life’ as it were, finally wearing the body like it belonged to him rather than parading about in a stolen suit of flesh. A long torso was now pulled tight with muscle under a corset of ivory flesh. Gangly arms were now shapely and possessed biceps made for dagger-play. Firm legs seemed apt to supporting Cole’s height like the columns around the bath house. Dorian licked his bottom lip subconsciously.

"This isn’t swimming, not technically." Dorian appeased, standing to his full height. "This is as deep as the water gets, Cole. You’re taller than me by a little as well. No risk of drowning here." The mage grinned and bent his knees to permit himself to sink once more. He pushed through the water and let his legs float behind him, pulling himself toward the stairs with his hands. He stopped near to Cole and brought his feet under him, pushing his head just out of the water.

"I could teach you to swim if you’d like. This is certainly not an ideal setting for such things but I’m used to making do with what I’ve been given. I’m a fairly decent improvisor, if I do say so myself." He grinned, chin deep in the water, dark limbs treading against the flow as if he needed to stay afloat.

His hair was an absolute mess, he was certain, and he could feel the stray hairs from his moustache against his lips. He hoped Cole understood what an effort he went through to keep up his act while looking so… debauched and uncivilized. He reached out a hand and took one of Cole’s delicately, pulling, urging the boy forward. He stood out of the water and continued walking backwards, guiding Cole with him.

Cole had always wanted to learn to swim. He remembered, sometimes in dreams, and sometimes awake, the place he came from. It was a farm in the middle of a dusty field. They were nowhere near water which was probably why it was so hard to grow things and the fields were usually filled with dirt rather than food. Once, or twice, he had gone to a nearby town with his mother and watched as the children jumped off the pier in their small clothes and into the water. He wanted to join in but his mother kept him away. He was different, weak minded his father said, and she was of the wilds. They were not welcome in the town.

He frowned thoughtfully thinking about how he had always wondered what it would feel like to just jump in.

Cole looked up from the water’s surface through his hair at the hand that reached out of the water to slip gently, but firmly into his own. He did not resist. Some of the people at Skyhold still made him shy away at times, Cassandra, Vivienne… but Dorian made him feel at ease. He did not mind the mage touching him, even when he wasn’t expecting it.

He slowly let Dorian guide him into the water and he couldn’t help but watch it as it swirled around him and rippled outward. Dorian was so natural in the water. It was beautiful really, the way he moved with the current. Instead of answering in words, Cole merely nodded, a small smile tugging on his lips. He enjoyed it when Dorian taught him things. No one but Cole knew how patient and caring he was, and how much he LIKED teaching Cole new things. It made Cole’s heart beat fast his skin heat up.

"Did you swim very much in Tevinter?" he asked as he waded into water that was just about his waist. With the hand that Dorian was not pulling along, he skimmed the surface of the water, enjoying the way it felt running through long fingers.

"My dear rogue, we did /everything/ in Tevinter, aside from learn a little humility it seems." Dorian joked softly, parting Cole’s fingers and slipping their hands closer, weaving them together around rings. His thumb danced gently on the back of Cole’s hand.

"There were numerous indoor lakes, public bath houses such as this, private pools owned by Magisters and wealthy families. The Pavus pool was… magnificent. My father had peacocks shipped in when he took over from his father. Fifteen of them. We had a dozen slaves and their families who were tasked with nothing but upkeep on the peacocks. The elves were to see to the birds’ every need. There were some twenty odd birds by the time I was born." Dorian slowly slipped his hand free of Cole’s with a grin. He turned and gestured toward the back of the bath house.

"A cousin of mine was particularly skilled with nature magics and my father paid him handsomely to set up a tropical greenhouse around the pool. He wove his green magic so far into the base of that stone that we practically created our own little terrarium. The humidity from the pool, the pure nature of our glass sky light… we never watered those plants. Some of the trees were so tall by the time I was a boy they had to be cut back on a monthly basis lest they break through the roof."

Dorian sighed, eyes moving over the stone walls. He could picture the large trees in his family home. He closed his eyes and he could almost hear the birds. He looked almost sad when he turned back to Cole.

"Our pool was much deeper than this. It took me years to reach the bottom at the deepest end. Once or twice I would swim down there and…" He paused and pulled a smile quickly to his face. The words he had intended next— and think about not coming back up — faded into the back of his throat. "So yes, to answer your question, we did lots of swimming in Tevinter. We held games in the winter months, when it was cold enough for the rain to be a bother, in the public indoor pools. Races, mostly, tests of endurance. We offered a fine collection of aquatic athletes… bodies like you have never imagined." Dorian laughed.

Cole looked around the bathhouse as Dorian indicated the surroundings and looked off into the distance. As he described the pool in his family home the place laid itself out before the former spirit. It was almost as if he could see if as clearly as Dorian could. Really, he COULD see it. The impressions from Dorian’s mind were so powerful that not only did he get words and feelings, but pictures. Vines wrapped around columns and wild exotic trumpet flowers and giant fern leaves. It straddled ‘wild and untamed’ and ‘perfectly manicured’ expertly as only the Tevinter could engineer. Magic fairly crackled in the air. It was a pleasant hum in the background.

Cole turned to Dorian, pulling his gaze away from the impression the mage’s mind had overlaid on the room.

"It’s beautiful Dorian." he said earnestly, "You miss it very much…" he continued, brightening just a little bit. "I would like to see it someday…with you." he offered, knowing Dorian wanted to go back, but aware that he was afraid of what awaited him. He did not think he would be able to ever return.

"You help me to not be afraid… at night… when I don’t want to sleep and dream of the Fade… Maybe if I go with you, I can help you to not be afraid too." he smiled very softly, innocently. He said it in a matter of fact way, not patronizing or condescending. It was a very natural thing to be afraid.

He thought about telling Dorian that wanting a way out was nothing to be ashamed of. That he felt helpless and knowing he could end it himself was a comfort, that he had some kind of control. He wanted him to know that it was alright, that it didn’t make him weak. But he knew that when he said things like that he didn’t always help. Dorian wanted to be happy and talking about it would make him sad. He didn’t want Dorian to be sad and so he said nothing but moved to take Dorian’s hand again. He liked holding hands with the mage. They were so soft and yet very strong.

Dorian looked to Cole, softly surprised, but his eyebrows raised and he let himself exaggerate the expression.

"You and I? Going to Tevinter? Together?" He chuckled, looking away. He turned back and very gently moved to place his hand high on Cole’s neck, thumb dancing at a pale jaw line. "You have no idea how horribly that would end my little spiritus." He met and scanned Cole’s blue eyes for a moment, until looking down to watch his dark fingers run over ivory skin.

"I’m starting to accept that I shall never be permitted to go back to Tevinter. It’s just… not possible. I cannot reform an entire nation on my own, and yet I cannot bring myself to selfishly risk the lives of my friends. I am sure by now my father has completely disowned me, gone so far as to erase my name from the family books. Perhaps, Andraste have mercy, he’s even working on another heir. It will set him back some number of years, the old bastard, but it’s not beneath him. No. I can only dream of Tevinter now, amatus, but you make it all right." Dorian tipped his head forward, intending to touch their foreheads together but forgetting temporarily their difference in height.

"With you it may not be Tevinter, but it will be home." He squeezed the fingers entwined with Cole’s hand, and then looked away and forced out a soft laugh. "Listen to me, sappy and waxing romantic. Ugh, I’ll ruin a perfectly good, perfectly empty bath house." He moved away slightly, trying to will away all the thoughts rumbling in his mind.

For a moment, Cole paused before shaking his head knowingly at Dorian.

"I know you are worried they will lock me up, or hurt me, but I won’t let them. I…can protect myself, you don’t have to worry. I can protect you too." he was entirely serious about this notion and it showed on his face. He wanted Dorian to be able to go home, but he would not let them hurt him again. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

As Dorian leaned in, he leaned down a bit. He was taller than the mage and wanted to help him make his intimate gesture. He liked it when Dorian touched him, gently ran his fingers over his neck, when they pressed their foreheads together. It was like, they were connecting in a real way, physically, not the way Cole could feeling what was in another’s head. Touching Dorian was like an anchor keeping him in this world. Every morning that he woke up beside the mage and was confused, didn’t know where he was, all he had to do was touch Dorian to know he was real, that he was not fading away again.

"I like when you call me a-ma-tus." he said softly, enunciating carefully to pronounce the word right. It rolled easily off Dorian’s tongue, but to Cole the word was strange, but warm and safe. He liked the way it sounded. With his head tilted forward against Dorian’s, he traced patterns in the water between them with his fingers, watching the ripples. Being so close to the other man and looking down at his body in the water made his cheeks flush, reddening noticably.

Dorian laughed again, a breathless sound that was clearly made for show and for defense, for putting up a wall. Dorian had thought he was beyond that with Cole but old habits died hard. He was learning to tread carefully around the idea of finally finding… love, or at least a deeper relationship. He had never in his wildest dreams in Tevinter thought it possible and yet here he was… but his footing was still unsure.

"That’s a very… sweet gesture, Cole." Dorian sighed, sorrow sounding oddly real and foreign on his tongue. "You are marvelously, surprisingly capable of defending yourself and I know you’ve protected my finely sculpted ass on a number of occasions, but… Tevinter is… Fasta vass… different. I talk about all it’s shiny and embrodiered parts, everyone else talks about the corruption and the slavery but…" He shook his head. "It’s not to be, amatus."

He pulled back just a little and scanned Cole’s face. He reached up and slipped a ring heavy hand into Cole’s hair, pulling it back and wetting it so that it stayed removed from the rogue’s eyes.

"You make it too complicated with your tongue. Two accents, not three will make it roll easier." He smiled, kind lines at the corner of young eyes. "Amatus." His lopsided grin caught and twitched into a full smile as he noticed the reddening on pale cheeks.

"Tuus cutis pallet quasi nix." He whispered, dropping his voice into a deeper tone. He lifted his other hand, pulled free from Cole’s fingers, and splayed it across Cole’s chest. It was like he had lifted his hand to the sun, all bright and light behind his palm and darkness and shadow on his flesh.

"Amatus…" Cole repeated, mimicking the pitch and roll of Dorian’s voice. It was not quite right, but it was much closer. It was a simple word, but Cole knew the reverence it held, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

Cole tried to concentrate on Dorian’s touch, and not get tangled up in the mage’s thoughts about his home. Dorian knew now that slavery was wrong, but as a child, it was normal to him. They were not seen as slaves to the young, privileged boy, but as a strange kind of extended family. The Pavus house treated their slaves well compared to others and young Dorian knew that it was a better fate than begging and dying on the streets. He saw them sometimes, in the bad part of the city, starving and weak. He wanted to save them all, but their house could only fit so many.

"Maybe someday, you can help make it better there." he said finally, knowing it was…complicated. He didn’t quite understand it himself, but saw it as the child Dorian grew up as did. He knew though, that if anyone could change things in Tevinter, Dorian could. And maybe, when he was ready, he would go back and bring Cole along. Cole wanted to help make Tevinter better so Dorian could be truly proud of his home.

Cole looked down as Dorian’s hand was quite suddenly splayed on his chest. The difference in their skin color was stark and Cole simply compared it a moment, enjoying the feeling of Dorian’s skin against his chest.

 

"I think I understand… it is pale…like…snow?" he did not speak Tevine, but from Dorian’s thoughts, he imagined he could tell when the mage had said.

Dorian let out a snort.

"So quickly you unravel my words. And here I thought I might stay a few steps ahead of you. Silly, I suppose." Dorian rubbed his thumb over Cole’s chest. It was strange. He could see scars metted about but they were so… hidden, one had to search for them. Cut deep into Dorian’s dark flesh were scars that stood out like beacons, easily noticable from a distance. He was not sure if he envied or pitied that Cole’s battle wounds were so hard to find. At times Dorian enjoyed showing off his scars but the deeper ones, the ones which had not been battle-made… those he wished to hide. No use feeling self conscious about them now, he imagined.

"It doesn’t snow in Tevinter. It’s too warm. Well… perhaps doesn’t is the wrong word, it very rarely snows in Tevinter. I had not seen snow until I left. My father saw it once, my mother never. You would be like a light to the Imperium for more reasons then one." Dorian moved his head, tilting it until he brushed his lips against Cole’s. They were soft lips, unsure lips and Dorian loved them. He could feel stray hairs from his moustache caught between their lips and he tried desperately not to think about how he must have looked. He tried to tell himself that Cole didn’t care.

Cole looked down at the water and chuckled softly, a breath of a laugh. He wasn’t sure why he had, but something about what Dorian had just said made him feel…good. No one had ever insinuated that he was smart before. Not ever that he could remember. For most of his life it had been just the opposite. Of course he knew that he had just pulled the words from Dorian’s head, but something about a man like Dorian suggesting that Cole had outwitted him somehow made him want to puff like like a proud bird. As if was, he just giggled nervously and put a hand over the one the mage had placed against his chest.

The dark fingers were now feeling his scars. He had barely noticed when Dorian had brushed his hair back with a wet hand, pushing the locks that permanently took up residence in front of his eyes away to slick back against the top of his head. Now that his chest was being inspected and his veil of hair was missing, he felt a little vulnerable. He told himself that it was Dorian and he did not have to worry, but instinct told him to shy away.

"I like the snow… but the cold hurts now. It didn’t used to- " Cole’s words cut off as Dorian’s lips met his own. The hairs from Dorian’s mustache tickled a little, but Cole didn’t even notice. The heat that had moments before been reddening his cheeks seemed to fill up his whole body, a small fire beneath his skin.

For a moment, Cole did not know what to do with his hands and they hung lamely beside him in the water. And then, as if instinct had taken over, he brought one pale hand up to touch the side of Dorian’s face while the other slipped around his back and splayed between his shoulder blades.

When the kiss broke, Cole sucked in an eager breath, not having mastered kissing and breathing just yet.

"Dorian, I think you look very hansom…" he said barely above a whisper.

"Everyone thinks I’m handsome. You’d have to be a fool not to." Dorian said with his usual snark, lifting a brow. His voice was quiet however, eager to stop altogether if Cole wanted to continue.

The hand between his shoulder blades was delightful. He flexed into it just a little, tilting his gaze down to the water and to the side as if to see the hand against his flesh though it was impossible. He wanted to be romantic, he wanted to be soft and loving and tender with his words but… those kinds of things failed him when he needed them most. He became frightened and let other things get in the way. He had his moments of tender, but they were scattered amongst jokes and sarcasm and thinly veiled hatred towards himself and all he represented.

"You know, in Tevinter, bath houses are rarely used to clean ones self…" He whispered suggestively, leaning up just a touch to make sure his lips brushed Cole’s with each word. He slid his hands until he gripped Cole’s upper arms gently, just enough pressure to really be holding on. He closed the distance between them once more and kissed Cole harder.

"I think you’re hansom right now…" Cole was speaking to Dorian’s thoughts directly. He wanted to assure him that it didn’t matter whether Dorian had gone through his beauty regimen or not, that he admired him. Cole still was not sure what ‘hansom’ was supposed to look like, but he knew how looking at the mage made him feel, that if he watched him for too long, he would tingle all over.

"They…aren’t?" Cole replied, pulling back from Dorian just barely enough to permit him room to speak, "What are they used for?" he asked. Insinuations were still a little confusing, though as the question came out of his mouth, he was beginning to realize what Dorian probably meant.

Cole gasped a little as the mage pulled them closer together and his one hand moved to join his other against Dorian’s back. He was only made aware of the…effect their touching and kissing had on him when his body pressed against Dorian’s and his erection was crushed between them. He jumped slightly, pulling away just a little, his face echoing his surprise. He hadn’t even realized what had happened. This, among the bodily functions he was realizing, was turning out to be the most difficult to get a handle on. It was very hard to control the reaction when Dorian was touching his skin with his warmth and kissing him softly.

His face flushed brighter red, standing out mostly high on his cheeks, and he averted his eyes. He knew enough to be a little embarrassed by his own lack of control. Oh, there were plenty of embarrassments those first few weeks as he got used to having to deal with more human functions, but control over this, despite his best efforts continued to elude him.

He chanced a sheepish glance up toward Dorian’s face to gauge his reaction. He wouldn’t be so embarrassed if he knew Dorian was not embarrassed by it.

Dorian was grinning, a softly knowing grin in spite thinking he probably looked like a starving wolf. He was not quite yet at Cole’s level, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. Sensing Cole’s gaze was one of testing, Dorian stepped back just slightly. He removed his hands from Cole reluctantly and slipped them to his own waist. He slowly, teasingly slipped his thumbs under the band of his own small clothes. He tugged at the elastic band and tilted his head back just a little.

He removed his thumbs and placed his hands under the bands, palms flat on his thighs. He began to pull his small clothes off slowly. As he bent down to give his arms more freedom, his head tipped forward. His lips met Cole’s chest, just below his collar bone. He kissed, soft, imploringly. He bent a little further and drew his mouth down to the crux of Cole’s ribs. He kissed here as well, brushing his lips over the flesh as an afterthought. Even further down onto Cole’s abdomen and another few quick kisses were planted.

He kept his lips just above Cole’s navel and moved to bend each leg in turn and remove his small clothes completely. He grabbed them with one hand and stood up, holding them to his chest. He wagged his eyebrow once at Cole.

"Oops." He offered before throwing the small clothes out of the bath. They made a loud wet slap against the stone.

Cole watched Dorian intently, confused at first by what he might be doing. As he bent over, Cole thought he was going to put his head right in the water, but instead his lips connected with chest. Cole shivered, half at the sensation and half in surprise. Cole’s skin developed goose bumps despite the heat of the room and the water under Dorian’s descending lips.

Cole bit his lip to keep from making a pathetic sound. He made a pathetic sound anyway. It was something akin to the whimper of a dog or the whine of a cat. He lifted one foot off the floor of the pool and rubbed it against his other leg for lack of something to do with his body, some kind of outlet. He watched Dorian and the other man’s show brought a small smile to his lips. He spared a glance downward before turning to his own small clothes.

He started to remove them, carefully around his now very sensitive erection, but paused.

"Will you…help me?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile that was almost seductive by Cole’s standards. It was teasing? It was certainly not because he actually NEEDED help. It was certainly a newly emerging side of Cole, but taking his cues from Dorian, it was hardly surprising. He looked out hopefully from underneath the veil of hair that had gradually worked it’s way back in front of his eyes.

Dorian lifted both eyebrows and for a sparse second there was a genuine smile of amusement on his face. An expression not marred by over-thinking or pretense.

"Oh ho, amatus. So helpless all of the sudden? Where is the dangerous rogue who threatened to let no harm befall a mage, hmm? So dexterous your fingers are yet they cannot remove small clothes?" He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Happily, I oblige. Your desiderium est praeceptum meum." He whispered, leaning in to kiss at Cole’s neck. He took a breath, a deep breath like a gasp, purposefully close to Cole’s throat. He wanted Cole to feel the cold air as he sucked it between his lips.

He gripped Cole’s waist and without warning dropped under the lap of the pool. He moved to his knees and placed his hands upon Cole’s thighs to keep himself quite firmly under water. His hair—eager to escape it’s style and be free—danced just shy of breaking the surface. Dorian crossed his legs at the ankles, pressing toes into the stone.

He leaned forward and found the hem of Cole’s small clothes with his mouth. He parted his lips and eagerly took the band into his mouth. Rubbing his thumb over Cole’s thighs he began pulling and twisting his head, shrugging the wet cloth over and off Cole’s erection with masterful movements. Clearly he had done this before.


End file.
